


Coffee.

by oui_oui_mon_ami



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Coffee, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, aaaand here's another coffee shop au that no one asked for, and v flustered, in which bucky is totally smitten, lots of coffee, my first full fic for this fandom yay!!, the angst comes later tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 11:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11207610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oui_oui_mon_ami/pseuds/oui_oui_mon_ami
Summary: Also titled "Another Coffee Shop AU that No One Asked For"In which Bucky Barnes co-owns a coffee shop. One day an extremely handsome customer walks through the door. Shenanigans ensue.A birthday fic for @AsguardianAgentSuperSoldier





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AsguardianAgentSuperSoldier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsguardianAgentSuperSoldier/gifts).



> So first off: happy birthday @AsguardianAgentSuperSoldier!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Y'all should check out her fics bc they're v v good
> 
> This is my first fic for this fandom, which I can't believe bc I've been in it for a while and read an awful lot of fanfiction... Updates will probably be every Thursday, but that may change bc I've only written like four chapters of this thing so far haha
> 
> Enjoy!! ^_^

**Chapter 1**

The first time Bucky saw Steve, he was cleaning tables.

He probably didn’t need to clean said tables – it was only half past seven in the morning and the little coffee shop he co-owned was half-full with frowning men in dark suits and exhausted students hiding behind laptops and several shots of espresso – but as Sam was taking inventory in the store room and Nat was managing the entire serving counter and not letting either of the boys interfere (Bucky was certain she could – and probably would – operate the entire café by herself with one hand behind her back), he had nothing to do but clean what was already spotless and make small talk with the regular visitors to the shop (who also happened to be most of the visitors to the shop).

He was chatting with one of said regulars and wiping down a table for the eighth time when an unfamiliar man stepped through the door, his large body casting a larger shadow as it blocked out the early morning light. Bucky glanced up, and his mouth proceeded to drop open as his eyes took in the figure’s chiselled face and toned abs, clearly defined under a tee shirt that was far too tight to be legal. The man walked to the counter to look at the menu, and Bucky’s gaze followed him.

“Hello? Earth to Barnes? I realise that you may find engineering boring, but this is downright rude.” Stark (yep, _that_ Stark of Stark Industries, who happened to spend an awful lot of time in Bucky’s coffee shop instead of actually working) frowned at him before following the direction of his eyes to the man at the counter. “Oh, I see. Gaping at attractive men is apparently a more interesting activity than listening to me talk about the new StarkPhone.”

Bucky scowled at the engineer. “I was not _gaping_. I wasn’t even staring. He just looked like a new customer.”

Tony shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t blame you if you were. He’s pretty hot.”

Bucky looked back up at the man, and he couldn’t help but agree. Hell, he would even make Adonis feel insecure. He was currently chatting animatedly with Nat, who was smiling back at him. Suddenly she turned in the direction of the kitchen. “Wilson!” she called.

Bucky raced to the counter. “I’ve got it,” he called into the kitchen, grabbing a cup and a pen. “What’s the order?”

“Large latte,” Nat said, shooting Bucky a knowing look that very clearly said “I know what you’re up to and I’m not impressed”.

“Can I take a name?” Bucky said, daring to make eye contact with the customer. He didn’t really need a name – the shop wasn’t busy, and Bucky could definitely remember that this particular order belonged to this very attractive customer – but he didn’t want to continue to refer to said very attractive customer as “very attractive customer”.

“Very attractive customer” smiled gently, his clear blue eyes glinting with genuine politeness. “Steve Rogers.”

“Steve,” Bucky repeated, savouring the feeling of the name in his mouth, as he wrote it on the cup, followed by a small smiley face. While he started the coffee machine, he listened to Steve talk with Nat.

(No, he certainly wasn’t eavesdropping, how dare you suggest that.)

“So what brings you here, Steve?” Nat asked.

“I normally go to Starbucks, but the queue’s almost through the doorway this morning. I have neither the patience nor the time for that,” Steve replied.

“Somewhere to be?”

“I work at the community college. I teach art. I have a tutorial in fifteen minutes, so I couldn’t wait for a Starbucks.”

“Well, the coffee’s much better here.” Bucky could hear the easy smile in Nat’s voice. “I might be a little biased about that, but it’ll cost you less here, and that’s a fact.”

Steve laughed, and Bucky felt his knees go weak. “In that case, I’m glad I found this place.”

Bucky fastened the lid onto the cup and handed it over. He may have held the cup a little too tightly – and with his right hand, even though that made it more awkward – just so that his fingers could brush Steve’s, but who was to say for certain?”

“Thanks,” Steve said, smiling at him again. “Have a nice day.”

“Y-you too!” Bucky called out as Steve left the shop, his voice cracking a little. As soon as the coast was clear, he lay his head on the counter in despair as Nat chuckled.

“That was the least subtle thing I have ever seen,” she said.

“I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die of embarrassment,” Bucky whined.

“Oh, lighten up. It wasn’t that bad,” Sam said from behind him. “I saw the whole thing from the kitchen and I can tell you that I’ve acted worse around women.”

“Yeah, but that’s you,” Tony chipped in. “You’re used to the mortification.”

“Stay out of this, Stark, or I’ll tell Pepper you’re down here,” Nat said, rolling her eyes fondly.

“Oh, she knows I’m down here. She’s just tired of dragging me back up to meetings.”

Sam patted Bucky’s back as the other two chatted back and forth. Bucky was used to the witty remarks being passed around between his friends like a tennis match, but sometimes the noise was a little too much for him, and the warm, reassuring hand on his back kept him on the ground. “Hey, maybe you’ll never see that guy again, and you won’t have to worry about embarrassing yourself ever again,” Sam said. Bucky nodded, although he felt a sinking feeling of disappointment at not being able to see Steve again. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The days pass, Steve has the same order, and Bucky never seems to be able to have a conversation with Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the hits and kudos on the last chapter, folks. They really do mean a lot to me.
> 
> This chapter is a lot longer than the last so enjoy

Steve didn’t come to the coffee shop the next morning, and although Bucky should have been at least slightly relieved that he wouldn’t embarrass himself again, he couldn’t help but glance at the door hopefully every couple of minutes, whenever he was sure none of his friends were looking. That still didn’t stop Nat from noticing and calling him out on several occasions.

By ten in the morning, Bucky was fairly resigned to the fact that Steve wasn’t coming. He let his work consume him and he lost track of time in his cycle of clearing tables and making drinks. In fact, he barely spoke to anyone until almost five in the evening.

“Bucky!”

He looked up at the sound of his name. Sam was at the counter, giving him a pointed look. Steve was with him, smiling his cute, laid-back smile at him.

Wait, _Steve was there?_

Bucky almost dropped the coffee cups he was holding.

“Can you get Steve a large latte?”

“Sure thing,” Bucky choked out, grabbing a cup and turning the coffee machine on.

“I don’t want to be rude, but you look exhausted, man,” Sam said. Bucky snorted. _That sounds extremely rude._

“I am exhausted. I love teaching and everything, but college kids can be a handful.”

“Ah, I remember college,” Sam said. “Lots of parties. Lots of hangovers.”

“Nowadays, getting high before art class seems to be all the rage,” Steve said. “All these kids I work with are so talented and really invested in their work, but I just don’t see why they risk it all on drugs.”

Sam shrugged. “They’re just experimenting. Have a little more patience and I’m sure they’ll calm down eventually. If they’re as invested in their work as you say they are, then they won’t stray too far.”

“I hope so,” Steve said. Bucky glanced over at him. Sam was right; he looked tired. Although he was still cute.

_No, Barnes. Stop._

Suddenly Bucky had an idea. He picked up the sharpie and scribbled _“You’re doing great! Remember to get a good night’s sleep!”_ under Steve’s name on his cup before pouring the coffee in and handing it over. “Have a nice evening,” he said as Steve thanked him and left the shop.

“See, you’re getting better at this,” Sam said.

Bucky shrugged. Maybe he could get used to Steve coming in every day. Or maybe it would just increase his chances of royally fucking something up.

\---

Steve came into the shop at half past eleven the next morning. Bucky and Sam were in the kitchen making the sandwiches for lunch while Nat was manning the counter when Bucky heard the distinctive melody of Steve’s voice. He picked up a broom so that he looked like he was leaving the kitchen for a reason, and Sam merely rolled his eyes as he continued to butter a slice of bread.

“Large latte?” he asked, pretending that he had only just caught sight of Steve.

Steve laughed and nodded. “Am I really that predictable? Oh, and thanks for that message yesterday.”

Bucky felt his face grow hot as Nat frowned at him, confused, but he just nodded in acknowledgement and turned to the coffee machine.

“Nah, I co-own this place, so I don’t tend to have much free time. I have to make sure that the boys are doing things right,” Nat continued.

“I don’t have much time to spare, either,” Steve replied. “Art’s a pretty big program over at the college, so I’m fairly booked up with lectures and tutorials on weekdays.”

“What kind of art do you specialise in?”

“Oh, all kinds,” Steve said, and even with his back turned Bucky could sense the excitement in his voice. “I’m mainly into painting myself – I teach the modules on post-impressionism and still life – but my students are all super creative with other media. I have a senior who’s currently working on a massive stone sculpture. He’s spent ages just chipping away at this rock and it’s going to turn out beautifully. I have another who does mixed media with fabric and paint. He’s done everything from sticking tribal fabric on portraits of indigenous people to making a dress out of old book pages and covers. Then I have a student who works with huge charcoal drawings. Which is great to watch because she’s barely five feet tall. I love that her height hasn’t held her back from doing something big.”

Bucky intently listened to Steve talk while the coffee machine poured out a shot of espresso. He was in serious danger of getting lost in Steve’s enthusiasm for his work. His voice seemed to shine with it. He subtly wrote “ _Keep inspiring your students to be as enthusiastic about art as you_!” on the cup before pouring the coffee and milk into it and handing it over with a small smile.

“Thanks, have a nice day,” Steve said, nodding at Bucky and Nat politely and leaving the shop.

“Are you seriously flirting with him through coffee?” Nat asked with mock exasperation.

Bucky couldn’t help but blush. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

Nat rolled her eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, Barnes.”

\---

Steve came every day, at different times (“I work at a college. The timetable changes each day, so I have different breaks.”). Bucky wanted to have a conversation with him each time, but there were two things standing in his way:

  * The fact that he was way too awkward and would probably – no, _definitely_ – make an idiot of himself if he was left alone with Steve for longer than ten seconds. The guy was just too cute to focus.
  * Whenever Steve walked in, either Sam or Nat were always on the cash register, and they seemed to make easy conversation with Steve just fine. At least Bucky could make his coffee and write encouraging messages on the cups. At least he could do that.



One day, Steve entered the shop while Bucky was working at the counter. Steve walked up and shot his laid-back smile at him. Bucky tried to return one, but he was sure it just came out as a grimace. “Large latte?” he managed to ask.

“You know me so well,” Steve replied, handing over the exact change.

Bucky quickly wrote “Have a great day today! Take lots of breaks!” on Steve’s cup and turned the coffee machine on, intending to have a real conversation with Steve this time. However, when Bucky turned around, Steve was already chatting with none other than Tony Stark.

“Did you create the design for the StarkPhone all by yourself?”

Tony laughed. “Of course. It’s not called the StarkPhone for nothing.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Stark. We all know that without Pepper that phone would have been thin enough to break like a twig,” Bucky said, shooting a glare at him for stealing Steve away from him.

“Hey! That was only the prototype,” Tony defended, pretending not to notice Bucky’s pointed look. “And you’re an artist?” he said, turning back to Steve and blocking Bucky out completely.

“I’m an art teacher. It’s a much more stable job, even if it involves a little less creativity,” Steve replied.

“I could see you being the creative type,” Tony said, resting his chin on his hand. Bucky scoffed at Tony’s flirting and turned back to the coffee machine, a sour feeling developing in his stomach.

They were still talking when Bucky placed the coffee on the counter. “Large latte,” he said, forcing a smile.

Steve smiled back at him, his genuine and easygoing one. “Thanks,” he said before leaving.

As soon as he was gone, Bucky shot another glare at Tony. “Why the hell were you flirting with him? I called dibs!” he exclaimed, just loud enough to turn a few heads around them.

“You can’t call dibs on a guy,” Tony said. “And you weren’t making any headway. I wasn’t going to take it anywhere.”

Bucky sighed. “So you’re basically saying I need to get my shit together and talk to Steve or you’re gonna do it for me?” he suggested.

Tony nodded. “Pretty much.”

Bucky let out another sigh, this time loud and exasperated enough to catch the attention of most of the café. He really needed to get his act together.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve and Bucky get up to mischief after opening hours. (Not /that/ kind of mischief, trust me!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as you can probably tell i suck at titling. chapters and fics. sorry this update is a little later than usual. and a little short.

One day, Steve didn’t come into the shop.

Bucky wasn’t worried at first. Steve had never visited twice at the same time, and maybe he was just off late today...

However, as time passed this became more and more difficult to believe. Steve had never come in later than half past five, and it was almost seven now. Bucky continued to shoot glances at the door every thirty seconds in the hope that Steve would magically appear through them.

Eventually he sent Sam and Nat home and began to clear away. The last hour or so of the coffee shop being open was never really busy, and one person could handle that and the cleaning up after closing. Nat left with a pitying look at Bucky, and Sam gave him a gentle pat on the back as he walked out through the door. Then, Bucky began to clean.

He connected his phone to the Bluetooth speakers around the café that normally played the radio on a soft volume during the day and brought up his playlist of classic rock songs. Journey immediately started playing, and Bucky turned the volume up and grabbed a broom. Humming along to the music turned into soft singing, which in turn soon became loud, off-key singing and half-dancing, half-sweeping the floor. In fact, his singing was so loud that he didn’t hear the door to the café open softly.

“ _Don’t stop believing_ ,” he sang. “ _Hold on to that feeling. Street lights, people_ -” he spun around and immediately locked eyes with Steve. Startled, Bucky let out a squawk and tripped over, landing on his ass on the floor. He could feel his face heating up. “Shit!” he exclaimed and scrambled to turn off the music. The guitar solo was immediately cut off and replaced with the sound of Steve’s laughter. The man in question was doubled over in the entrance to the café. Bucky couldn’t help but blush even more at the sight and sound of Steve laughing. “I’m glad I can entertain you,” Bucky muttered.

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Steve said, finally regaining the ability to speak without erupting into another fit of giggles. “One of my students made a huge mess in the art room and I had to help her clean it up. Am I too late?”

Bucky glanced at the clock. It read five minutes to nine. “You’re just in time,” he said, although he would have let Steve in even if he was late. “Large latte?” he asked, walking behind the counter to start the coffee machine.

“Make it extra large,” Steve replied. “With another shot of espresso. Please.”

“Long day?” Bucky asked.

“Well, I’m here at nearly nine o’clock at night, so that should tell you something,” Steve said with a tired smile, sitting down on one of the tables.

Bucky prepared his coffee in a slightly awkward silence. Now that he actually had the chance to talk to Steve, his mind completely blanked on conversation topics. It wasn’t until he had handed over Steve’s coffee and resumed cleaning that the silence was broken.

“Y’know, you must know a lot about me from the way I blab on about myself every day, but I know almost nothing about you,” Steve said.

Bucky paused in the middle of wiping down a table. “Well, what do you know already?” he asked.

“That your name is Bucky Barnes and you co-own this place with Natasha,” Steve replied. “Oh, and also that you make damn good coffee.”

“That is pretty much all there is to know,” Bucky said. “I like food and music, and I live a couple blocks over. If you’re wondering about my arm, it got fucked up in a car crash.” He held out his left arm while continuing to clean the table, putting all his focus into that instead of looking at Steve’s reaction. His arm – and the crash in general – had always been a sensitive topic for him.

“What kind of music are you into?” Steve asked.

That took Bucky by surprise. Normally when the topic of his arm comes up, people want him to tell them the entire story of the crash, or at least have a closer look at the prosthetic. But Steve had completely changed the subject. Maybe he could tell that Bucky didn’t particularly want to talk about it.

“All kinds,” he replied. “You just heard my taste in eighties music, but I also like jazz, classical, musical theatre… all sorts.”

“That’s really cool! I haven’t met many people with such a wide range in music tastes. Most of my students either just listen to the charts or they’re into all that indie music,” Steve said. He sounded genuinely interested and Bucky tried to hide a blush.

“Indie music is great. More people should support talented artists that are doing it all themselves instead of buying into the same old celebrities who have access to massive tours and autotune,” he replied.

“The stuff that I’ve heard is actually so much better than what’s on the radio all the time,” Steve agreed. “The lyrics are so poetic and actually mean something other than just going to a party or picking up a date.”

“That’s true!” Bucky watched as Steve finished his coffee and picked up a mop that was leaning against the counter. “What are you doing?”

“I’m helping,” Steve replied, starting the mop the floor. “It’ll get done much faster with the two of us, and I can’t just sit and watch you work your ass off.”

They chatted amiably while they cleaned, and Bucky ended up learning a lot more about Steve than the conversations that he had overheard beforehand. He also felt comfortable enough to tell Steve about himself. It seemed like only minutes had passed before they had cleaned the entire café and Bucky was switching off the lights and locking the door behind him.

“Thanks for helping out,” Bucky said as they stood awkwardly outside the shop.

“Not at all,” Steve replied, smiling at him. “It’s the least I could do for the coffee you make me every day.”

Bucky shrugged. “Well, that’s sort of my job.”

Steve laughed. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Bucky had a smile on his face during the entire walk home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok now i'm going to do that chemistry coursework i've barely started that's due tomorrow hahaha this is fine


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things are going well - until they're not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the last few weeks have been really busy and i've either had no laptop or no wifi on said laptop so that's why this chapter is almost a month late... sorry
> 
> hopefully things should be vaguely on track for the next few weeks. sooooo another update on thursday

**Chapter 4**

Bucky was pretty sure he was going to die. He was going to drown in countless orders that just kept coming and he and Sam couldn’t handle it. He would have called Nat to come into work to help them, but last time he did that she threatened to murder him for making her miss her day off. Bucky had no doubt of Nat’s capability of killing him, so he and Sam were trying to manage the far-more-than-usual customers of the lunch rush.

“Busy day, huh?” Bucky heard behind him, and he turned around from making one of the customers’ coffees to see Steve in the ever-growing queue.

“You don’t say,” Bucky replied flatly as he handed the waiting customer his coffee with a forced smile.

“You look like you could use some help.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t afford to hire anyone else,” Bucky replied.

“I wasn’t talking about hiring,” Steve said, now suddenly standing next to Bucky and putting on an apron.

“What- you can’t just start working here! For free!” Bucky sputtered. His brain was somewhat short-circuiting because _holy shit_ did Steve look good in an apron.

“Dude,” Sam called over his shoulder from the counter. “If someone offers you unpaid work you damn well take it. You two can work on the food because we have, like, ten different sandwich orders.”

Bucky sighed in resignation and led Steve into the kitchen. He pointed to the orders pinned over the worktop. “You go from the left, I’ll go from the right,” he instructed. “When it comes to the presentation, just copy me.”

Bucky started preparing a tuna mayonnaise sandwich, keeping an eye on Steve, who was making a BLT. Steve caught his eye and smiled. “I used to work in a café, you know,” he said.

“Really?”

“Sure. Despite popular belief, a major in fine arts does not provide many job opportunities.”

Bucky laughed. “I suppose not.”

“What about you, then?” Steve asked.

Bucky looked up. “What about me?”

“Are you a college guy? I could see you as an English major.”

“Nah,” Bucky replied. “I was a PoliSci major for about a year and a half, but I dropped out.”

“Oh?” There was a question in Steve’s tone, and Bucky kept his eyes on the sandwich he was cutting into quarters.

“Yeah. College wasn’t really for me. There’s something about being forced to write essays that just makes me want to make coffee for the rest of my life.”

“Fair enough.”

“Here,” Bucky said, putting the sandwich pieces on a plate with some salad and potato chips. “Copy this presentation.” Steve arranged the pieces exactly as they were on Bucky’s plate. “Pretty good,” Bucky said with a small grin.

Steve shrugged. “I am a fine arts major, after all.”

They continued to work together until they had run out of orders, and emerged into the shop to see that the queue had disappeared. “Thanks, man,” Sam said to Steve, patting him on the back.

“No problem at all,” Steve replied, checking his watch. “Shit!” he suddenly exclaimed. “My next class starts in ten minutes! I’m going to be late!”

“Shit,” Bucky echoed, and started the coffee machine as Steve hung up his apron.

Steve slung his backpack over his shoulder. “See you guys tomorrow,” he said with a smile.

“Wait!” Bucky exclaimed, and grabbed Steve’s latte, scribbling “thanks!” on the cup. “It’s on the house. The least we could do.”

“Thank you, Bucky,” Steve said before disappearing through the door. Bucky tried to hide his blush for the rest of the day.

\---

A few days later, Steve walked in hand in hand, with a woman. He introduced her as Sharon and ordered two large lattes. Sharon wanted caramel syrup with hers. Nat asked Bucky to make the drinks while she chatted with Steve and Sharon. Bucky was definitely not eavesdropping.

“So you two are together?”

“As of last week, yes,” Steve replied.

“How did you meet?”

“I teach forensic science at the community college, and he’s been eyeballing me in the staff common room for a while now,” Sharon replied with a smile.

Steve shrugged sheepishly. “Guilty as charged,” he laughed.

Bucky handed over the coffees, trying his best not to let his smile drop as he looked at the couple. Even though his chest felt like it was imploding. “Here’s a large latte, and here’s a large latte with caramel syrup. Have a nice day.”

“Thanks, Bucky. You too,” Steve said.

When he was gone, Bucky finally let himself release an almighty sigh. He felt as if a huge weight had suddenly placed itself in his stomach and was about to drag him down through the floor. Well, at least he wouldn’t have to see Sharon hand in hand with Steve ever again if he let the earth swallow him whole.

He sighed again. Who was he to be jealous of Steve’s girlfriend? Steve was never his. Bucky was just the coffee guy.

Nat patted his back lightly. “Hey. For what it’s worth, you’re much hotter than her. Steve doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

Sam poked his head through the kitchen doorway. “What’s going on?”

“Steve has a girlfriend,” Nat explained.

“Shit, man,” Sam explained, pulling Bucky into a hug. “It’s his loss.”

Bucky didn’t reply. He was mad at himself for letting his crush turn into a full-blown _liking_. He was mad for immediately assuming that Steve wasn’t straight. Of course he was straight. All of the hot guys were either taken or straight. Or, in Steve’s case, both.

But he simply smiled at Sam and Nat like nothing had happened. “Thanks, guys,” he said.

Nat frowned at him. “You sure you’re okay?”

No. No, he was not okay. He was anything but okay. Unless you could call one’s heart shattering into a thousand pieces “okay”.

 _Stop being so overdramatic, shithead_.

Bucky nodded, a smile still plastered on his face. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha... sorry
> 
> come and yell at me on tumblr: actual-dorito-steve-rogers


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble in paradise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I'd get a chapter up today! And I still have over an hour to go!
> 
> Quick warnings of a panic attack and mentions of blood and a car crash. Stay safe friends!

**Chapter 5**

“So where’s Sharon?” Nat asked Steve. Bucky, facing away from the chatting pair at the counter, listened to their conversation from the coffee machine.

“She’s taking a lecture today. Looking at blood samples on knives,” Steve replied. Bucky noticed a lack of fondness in Steve’s voice that he had had when previously talking about Sharon. It had been a week since they had first walked into the shop together and Bucky tried not to die every time Steve mentioned Sharon with a smile on his face. Oh, how he wished that he could make Steve grin like that.

“You seem down. Trouble in paradise?” Nat asked, also picking up on the change in Steve’s tone.

“It’s nothing. I’m just not sure whether Sharon’s right for me,” Steve replied. Bucky felt a small glimmer of hope rekindle in his chest.

“Oh?” Nat questioned, pressing Steve for more information.

Steve sighed. “Something just seems… off. Something’s missing.”

Bucky resisted the urge to turn around and yell “ _It’s me! It’s me you’re missing! Dump that woman and go out with me instead!_ ”

But he thought that that would be inappropriate, so he kept quiet.

“Are you going to break up with her?”

“I don’t know. I think that would be a bad thing to do, seeing as I can’t put my finger on what’s wrong yet. She’d probably want a real, solid reason why I’m breaking up with her.”

Bucky handed Steve his coffee with a tight-lipped smile. Steve gave a full one back, and after all this time it still managed to launch butterflies in Bucky’s stomach. “Well, I wish you luck with that,” Nat said. “Have a nice day.”

\---

Bucky continued to make Steve coffee, and Steve continued to talk about how Sharon probably wasn’t right for him. Bucky wanted to feel bad for him, because he was obviously having a tough time, but he couldn’t squish that feeling of hope that maybe he could make Steve happier than Sharon did. If only he could work up the courage to confess his feelings.

One morning, Bucky was crossing the road outside his apartment when a bright red car sped around the corner. Bucky spun around at the beep of the horn rapidly getting closer and jumped back onto the pavement. The wing-mirror clipped his flesh hand and he lost balance, falling back on the pavement. His ears were ringing and colours were blurring together. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t-

He was back in his car, the one that had been totalled. Lights were blurring; he couldn’t see anything. A waltz was playing from the radio, but the sound was drowned, as if it was being played underwater, or from the other end of a tunnel.

Then, a crash. The force threw him back with a gasp of breath. A shocking pain whizzed up his left arm like a bolt of lightning, then it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, leaving nothing. Only numbness. But Bucky’s head was still spinning. He could hear screaming, but he was the only one in the car, he was sure. It took him a blurry moment to realise that the person screaming was him.

And then, he was back in his apartment block. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that he had made it inside the lobby before sliding down the wall to the cold marble floor. No-one else was in the room to witness his panic attack, thank God. He sighed and attempted to get up – he’d be damned if he wasn’t going into work today – but his legs gave way and he ended up back where he had started. And he felt so _tired_. Bucky hated calling in sick, but he seriously didn’t think he’d be able to make it through a whole day. Nat would probably send him home anyway. He sent a quick text to her explaining the situation as vaguely as possible – Nat would probably work out what had happened, anyway – and carefully made his way to the elevator, most likely looking like a drunkard. He slumped back down on the ride up and stumbled down the corridor with only a couple slips. As soon as he was back in the safety of his apartment, Bucky slipped into a set of pyjamas and wrapped himself in his duvet, collapsing on the sofa as soon as he could feel sleep tugging at him. He drifted off pretty quickly and dreamed of numbness.

\---

Bucky had lost track of how many episodes of _Friends_ he had watched. He had lost track of how much time he had spent binge-watching _Friends_. When had he woken up from his nap? Had he done anything between waking up and logging onto Netflix? Everything was still a little fuzzy in Bucky’s mind, but the noise from the television was nonetheless a comforting background to his half-asleep drifting.

A knock at the door yanked him away from said drifting. Bucky groaned softly and padded to the front door, running a hand through his hair. He was sure he looked like shit. Who cares, the only people who knew where he lived, let alone would bother to visit him, were Nat and Sam. Or maybe he had ordered pizza in his state of blurry confusion?

It wasn’t Nat or Sam at the door. Neither was there pizza. Bucky froze as he stared out into the hallway, where Steve was smiling sheepishly at him with a paper bag and takeaway cup. “Hi,” Steve said.

“Hi,” Bucky echoed, voice hoarse from disuse. He was vaguely aware that his hair was sticking up all over the place and he was wearing the tattiest, _thinnest_ pyjama bottoms he owned. “What are you doing here?”

Steve shrugged, a genuine smile never leaving his face but his eyes shining with a glint of worry. “Nat said you called in sick today, so I offered to pay you a visit with some lunch.”

Bucky could feel his face heat up. “Thank you,” he managed out. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Steve said with a wink. “That’s what makes me so nice.”

“Did you really just quote _Wicked_ at me?” Bucky asked, rolling his eyes. He moved out of the way so that Steve could enter his apartment.

“Yup,” Steve replied. “Ooh, is that _Friends_ you’re watching?” he suddenly exclaimed and speedwalked towards the sound of David Schwimmer’s voice. Bucky followed him, smiling dumbly at Steve’s excitement.

Steve was already on the couch with half the duvet around his shoulders. Bucky perched on the other end, careful to ensure that no part of him was touching Steve. Steve, however, was not having any of that, and shifted across so that their bodies were pressed uncomfortably close together. Bucky shrugged the duvet onto his shoulders and made grabby hands at the takeaway cup and paper bag. Steve rolled his eyes fondly and handed them over. “ _Voila_. Carrot and coriander soup and one of Miss Romanov’s lemon muffins.”

Bucky opened the lid of the cup and sipped at the soup, letting out an involuntary moan which made Steve laugh. “Hey!” Bucky said, glaring at him. “I haven’t eaten anything all day, how dare you laugh at me!”

“You haven’t eaten breakfast?” Steve asked, his eyes suddenly going wide.

“I usually just eat something at the shop,” Bucky replied, shrugging.

Steve tutted as he felt Bucky’s forehead. “No wonder you’re sick,” he muttered. “Have you had any medicine? Paracetamol? Ibuprofen? Do you have to take it with a meal? Do you know what’s wrong with you? Is it a cold, or a fever? Or do you have stomach pains? Do you-”

“Steve,” Bucky cut in. “I’m not… that kind of sick.”

Steve stopped. “Oh?” he asked, lifting the word at the end to form a question.

Bucky sighed. “Ihadapanicattack,” he mumbled quickly.

Steve cocked his head. “What was that?”

“I… had a panic attack this morning.”

“Oh… Bucky, I’m so sorry,” Steve said, sitting down and reaching for Bucky’s hand, his right one. “I’m not going to pressure you into talking about anything, but if you do want to, I’m here to listen.”

Bucky let out a breath. Steve was trying to help, but Bucky had heard those words many, many times before. The only difference this time was that he actually wanted to talk to Steve.

“A couple of years ago I got into a car accident. A drunk driver swerved onto my side of the road without any warning.” He shrugged. “Nothing I could do. The car impacted my car on my side, crushing my left arm beyond repair and breaking my left leg pretty badly, too. I was lucky not to break my neck.” His voice cracked as he felt tears prick his eyes. “This morning a car took a corner too quickly and almost hit me. It took me straight back to that night.”

Steve’s voice was soft. “And that’s how you got…”

Bucky nodded, lifting his prosthetic arm up. “Yeah. It does the job.”

They sat in silence for a moment, both afraid to speak. Eventually, Steve spoke up, his voice still soft and gentle, but with a firmness to it. “You are an incredibly strong person,” he said. “Stronger than I thought you were, and stronger than anyone I’ve met. If you can get through what you’ve been though, then you can make it through anything. I have total faith in that, but I’m here if you ever need me.”

Bucky was sure tears were falling down his cheeks now. “Thank you,” he breathed, giving Steve’s hand a small squeeze.

Bucky fell asleep as they watched television. Their hands were still intertwined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter actually has a happy ending for once?? What??


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things are beginning to go well again... until they're not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look who's not dead!! it's me!! sorry i missed the update last thursday it was a really busy week so i've updated a day early for y'all :^)

Bucky woke up to the sound of a laugh track being played. He had no idea how many episodes of _Friends_ he had slept through, but a quick feel around him told him, disappointingly, that Steve had left. He opened one eye, blinking at the brightness of the television, then the other. He caught sight of Nat’s cake and a bright pink post-it-note on the coffee table, and leaned forward for a closer look. In the sprawling, loopy handwriting of an artist, the post-it-note read:

_Bucky,_

_You fell asleep so I thought I might take my leave. Thank you for allowing me to stay in the warmth for a couple of hours, and thank you for considering me close enough to you for you to open up to me. I don’t have many friends, but I am glad that I can call you one of them. Please get plenty of rest before thinking about returning to the coffee shop; even though I will miss your presence, your wellbeing is infinitely more important than that._

_Yours, Steve x_

Bucky couldn’t help the Cheshire-cat grin spreading across his face.

\---

Bucky winced as he hears a sigh crackle down the line. “Okay, Barnes, but this is the last time I’m covering for you,” Nat says, putting on a show of frustration even though both she and Bucky knew that she was actually concerned about Bucky. “Make sure you get enough rest to come in tomorrow. We both know how much Same hates giving up his days off.”

“Thanks again, Nat,” Bucky said, genuinely grateful that Nat knew about his… _situation_ and understood, and _kept it on the down low_. When Bucky had told Sam and Nat about his panic attacks, he made sure to tell them not to tell Stark. Not that Bucky didn’t like Tony – he was one of the only people Bucky felt totally comfortable talking to – but because Tony Stark was a notorious blabbermouth. Well, he wasn’t particularly careful with secrets, and being the former CEO of Stark Industries didn’t help the paparazzi. There had been a few times when Nat had had to shoo photographers away from the large café windows with a broom. “If Steve comes in, could you tell him to keep the… thing a secret? Please?” Bucky asked Nat.

“Sure thing. I can threaten his life if you want. I’m pretty good at that.”

“Don’t scare him away though.”

“You really like him, don’t you?” Nat chuckled.

Bucky felt a blush bloom across his cheeks. “Nat! He has a girlfriend! He’s probably not even into guys!”

“There are such things as bisexuality and pansexuality,” Nat said. Bucky could practically hear her roll her eyes. “Okay, I gotta get to work, seeing as _someone’s_ playing hooky.”

“See you later, Nat.”

“Go to sleep, Barnes.”

Bucky put down the phone and promptly decided that sleep was a very good idea.

\---

Bucky awoke to a weird sensation on his left thigh. For a second he panicked, imagining himself back in the hospital, with his left leg in a cast and one of his arms missing –

But then he realised that he had left his phone in his pocket and it was vibrating.

He groaned and squinted at the screen. A text from an unknown number? That was unheard of for Bucky, whose non-existent social life limited him to a total of zero messages. Maybe a few short, blunt ones from Nat and a meme or two from Sam at some ungodly hour. Bucky warily opened the message, expecting it to be a prank text or a wrong number.

_Hi Bucky! I hope you’re feeling a little better, but I’m glad you’re resting up! This is Steve by the way, Sam wrote your number on my coffee cup this morning and told me to text you. I hope you don’t mind. Remember to drink plenty of water today! – Steve_

Bucky’s phone buzzed again, and again, with two shorter messages appearing underneath.

_I know people shouldn’t text the day after they meet up so this probably comes across as really clingy. I’m so sorry. – Steve_

_I just realised that you could be asleep right now and my messages could be waking you up! I’m really sorry again. I’ll shut up now. – Steve_

Bucky quickly tapped out a text.

**_NO DON’T BE SORRY KEEP TEXTING ME I’M BORED_ **

A thought bubble with three dots appeared almost immediately, which made Bucky’s heart jump a little too much with excitement.

_Bucky! Good morning! Have I just woken you up?_

**_nah i’ve been up for hours_ **

_…_

_Is that the truth?_

**_… no_ **

_Hmm, I thought not. In a way, I’m glad because that means you’ve had a good rest. I am sorry for waking you, though._

**_no please don’t apologise i like talking to you_ **

Bucky winced as soon as he sent that text. Was it overstepping a boundary to say that?

_I like talking to you, too!_

That made him relax a little more.

_Any plans for today? Or is it just a duvet day?_

**_watching tv. prob binge watching a crappy reality show_ **

_Nothing like spending the day glued to a television series that requires no brain power whatsoever. I wish I could do that today._

**_are you free at all? you’re welcome to drop by_ **

_I have classes all day today. And anyway, I’d hate to impose upon you a second day running._

**_you wouldn’t be imposing!! i’m gonna be lonely :(_ **

_Sorry, Bucky. As much as I love spending time with you, duty calls._

Steve loved spending time with him? Bucky could feel the heat on his face.

_I have to take a lecture now, so I gotta go. Have fun today, and get lots of rest! Think of me, being all jealous of you all day._

**_ttyl steve. thanks for texting me today_ **

_You’re welcome! See you later! xx_

Despite the cold weather outside (and inside: Bucky’s central heating was playing up again), Bucky felt warm for the rest of the day.

\---

The next day was Sam’s day off, and although Nat said that she could handle things herself (which Bucky didn’t doubt), Bucky came in anyway. He was working at the counter when Sharon walked into the shop.

With another man on her arm.

At first, Bucky wanted to hope that this other man was just a friend. Sharon would never cheat on Steve, there never was or ever would be anyone as good as Steve. He continued to hope this as they ordered two regular caramel lattes, giggled as the man handed over the money (twenty dollars for three dollars-worth of drinks!) and drank their lattes at a table, holding hands. Yep, they were just two close friends.

Bucky drew the line when they started kissing. Now, that was _too_ close for them to just be friends.

That meant that Sharon was cheating on Steve.

Why would Sharon cheat on Steve? Did she know how awesome Steve was?

Bucky had to tell him.

But what if Steve didn’t believe him? It was Sam’s day off, and Nat was baking in the kitchen. That gave him no other witnesses. What if Steve thought that Bucky was just trying to make Sharon look bad so that Steve would leave her for him? Bucky couldn’t tell him.

Bucky had never had to force a smile for Steve before. When Steve came into the shop today, Bucky had to will himself to smile so hard that his cheeks hurt.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you think things can't get much worse. You're wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at me finishing a chapter on time lmao

“Bucky? Earth to Barnes, come in.”

Bucky’s eyes focused on Steve cocking his head at him in amusement. “Sorry, what?”

Steve laughed. “You zoned out. I’m probably boring you a little, right? All this talk of Sharon.”

“No, not at all. I’m happy that you’ve found someone.” In truth, Bucky’s heart imploded every time he looked at Steve. Especially when Steve started talking about Sharon. Not just because he was jealous, but the guilt he felt was eating him alive. Bucky wanted to tell Steve that Sharon was cheating on him, he wanted to so badly, but every attempt led to a last-minute abortion due to either cowardice or selfishness. Bucky couldn’t quite decide which one. Or maybe Bucky was being selfless – after all, Steve would be less happy if he knew that Sharon had been cheating on him for at least a week, probably more.

“Bucky!”

“Huh?”

“You zoned out again! Am I going to have to keep little electrodes on you to shock you awake? Or did you just not get enough sleep last night?”

“Oh no, I’m fine.” Bucky was definitely not fine. “I was just… thinking. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Steve said, giving Bucky one of his easy, genuine, _heart-wrenching_ smiles. “What are you thinking about that’s consumed you so?”

 _You_ , Bucky thought.

“Whether almond milk is better than soy milk,” he said.

Steve nodded as if he was giving the topic serious thought. “Interesting. And have you come to a decision?”

Bucky shrugged. “Almond milk tastes better and is healthier, but soy milk is less expensive, so.”

“A literal cost-benefit analysis.” Steve smiled guiltily. “In all honesty, I’m a whole milk guy.”

Bucky made a face. “I would never have pinned you as one, with all your…” he started gesturing to Steve’s arms, because _woah_ , and Steve’s torso, because _WOAH_ , before he realised that what he was doing was probably not all that appropriate and proceeded to sit on his hands.

“Sharon says the same thing. She tries to get me to drink fat free milk because it’s healthier, but it’s just not the same.” Despite Steve’s carefree smile, Bucky’s heart sunk at the mention of Sharon. How dare she try and change Steve’s milk preferences? Let Steve drink whatever milk he chooses. “But what about you?” Steve asked, expression changing in a flash to earnest. “I’ve talked so much about Sharon, but do you have a girl on the side that I don’t know about? Or a guy, sorry, I don’t mean to be heteronormative.”

Bucky shook his head. “Nah, I’m a single pringle.” He winced as soon as the words came out. Single pringle? Who even said that anymore? Middle-aged white women, that’s who.

Steve nudged him. “Really? No crushes I’m unaware of?”

Bucky could feel his cheeks growing hot. He couldn’t exactly say that his crush was sitting next to him – and no, he was not referring to the short brunette sipping a milkshake on the other side of him.

\---

A couple of days later, Steve came into the coffee shop and sat down at one of the bar stools, next to Tony, who was sipping an espresso while flicking through his Twitter feed. Bucky smiled as soon as he saw him. “Hey, Steve! Large latte coming-” He froze as soon as he saw the expression on Steve’s face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Steve shook his head. “Nah, it’s nothing. Sharon just broke up with me.”

“Shit,” Tony whispered from next to Steve.

Bucky mentally kicked himself for feeling a shock of excitement course through him. “Damn,” he said. “I’m so sorry, Steve.”

Steve shrugged. “Thanks,” he said bitterly. “Y’know, I would’ve been fine with that. I didn’t think that we were right for each other, but I didn’t want to say anything. But what I couldn’t understand was why she would cheat on me for nearly two weeks before letting me go.”

“Shit,” Tony repeated. Bucky gave him a look. He felt a lump in his throat. So he’d found out about that.

“Did you see her with the other guy?” he asked.

“No, she told me. At least she had the decency to do that. Eventually.”

Bucky grimaced and put his hand on Steve’s arm reassuringly. _Platonically_. “Well, she doesn’t deserve you. And her new boyfriend’s a total step down from you.”

Steve gave him a small smile. “Thanks,” he said before frowning again. “Hang on, how do you know that?”

Bucky’s breath hitched. “Well, uh, I just assumed seeing as she dated you-”

“You saw her with him, didn’t you?”

He avoided Steve’s gaze. His heart was racing. He had to find a way out of this. “No, I was just assuming-”

“Bucky.”

Bucky finally looked into Steve’s eyes. They stared at each other for a few seconds, Steve searching Bucky’s face until he found what he was looking for. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Steve asked quietly.

Bucky looked down. “I didn’t think you would believe me. And I wanted to protect you. I didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

Steve scoffed. “Well, you sure failed on that. You lied to me, Bucky.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky replied, hoping that Steve would see how much he meant it. He’d fucked up. Big time.

Steve shook his head and stood up. “ _Sorry_ just doesn’t cut it, I’m afraid.”

Bucky watched as Steve left the shop. Tony puffed out a breath. “Wow. That was some serious teen drama.”

“Shut up, Stark,” Bucky said, his eyes not moving from the door, willing Steve to come back and forgive him.

But he knew that wouldn’t happen. Bucky had done what he had always done: he had a good thing, a great thing in fact, and he ruined it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almond milk vs soy milk?? opinions?? comments on this v important debate?? should we also talk about coconut milk??
> 
> (personally i like almond milk ^_^)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is depressed, the boys talk, and Tony is a good bro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's not dead????!?!?
> 
> so after watching infinity war my inspiration for this fic was finally rekindled (after like nine months ffs) bc the boys need some love. and tbh i thought it would be really difficult to get back into writing these characters after so long but actually it was p easy??? the hardest part was actually getting the tenses right bc i've been writing so much in the present tense recently wow english is hard and it's my first language
> 
> also why do i finally get inspiration to write the week before the most important exams of my life hhhhhh

Steve didn’t come into the shop for over a week after that.

Bucky pretended like he didn’t care. He kept taking people’s orders, writing names down on cups because he couldn’t remember the faces, making the coffee perfectly every time, just like he had done before Steve had walked into the shop.

He knew that the others were worried about him, but he pretended not to notice. He ignored the odd pitying looks Nat kept giving him as it neared the end of every day. He kept smiling at Sam and insisting that he was fine. And he just stopped talking to Stark eventually, since he kept steering all their conversations towards Steve. The genius meant well, he really did, but he certainly was not the best with feelings.

He ignored everyone, shut them out and pulled up his walls, so he could also ignore his breaking heart.

Bucky knew that he’d fucked up. He was selfish and hurt Steve for the sake of his own feelings. It would be perfectly understandable if Steve never returned to the shop again, but that didn’t stop the strong ache in his chest whenever he thought about that possibility. So he kept his head down and worked away his feelings.

One night, Bucky sent Sam home and closed up by himself with only his classical music playlist for company. He had wiped all the tables down and stacked the chairs and was mopping the floor when he heard the door open softly behind him. Bucky sighed, ready to politely tell whoever it was to piss off and come back in the morning when he was (hopefully) more emotionally stable.

“Too late for a coffee?”

Bucky froze, instantly recognising the thick, yet charming, Brooklyn accent. He glanced at the clock. Two minutes to nine. “You’re cutting it fine, Rogers,” he managed to get out, slowly turning to meet Steve’s gaze.

Steve’s eyes were on the freshly mopped floor. Even so, _god_ , it felt good to see him again. “Starbucks closed half an hour ago,” he muttered.

Bucky was already making his way around the counter and firing the coffee machine back up. “Extra large latte with an extra shot of espresso?” he asked, remembering Steve’s order from the last time he came in this late.

Steve must have remembered that night, too, since he had picked up the mop Bucky had left leaning against a table and started slowly, meticulously, cleaning the floor. “I only have change for a large latte tonight,” he replied.

Bucky shrugged. “I’m making you an extra large anyway. You look like you need the extra caffeine.” That got a huffed laugh out of Steve, which made Bucky’s chest ache. God, he was _so_ whipped for this guy. “Besides,” he started to wipe down the counter while the machine woke up, “it’s the least I can do.”

Steve stopped, frowned, and sighed, straightening up and facing Bucky. His eyes were still directed towards anywhere but him, and that made Bucky feel sick. He would give his other arm to know what Steve was thinking. “Actually, I came here to apologise,” Steve said finally. “That day, I overreacted. I was angry, and sad, and confused. And I took those feelings out on you. And I’m so sorry I did that. I know now that you just wanted to protect my feelings.”

“I shouldn’t have taken the situation into my own hands, though,” Bucky said, back turned to Steve as he made the coffee.

“I think we both made mistakes,” Steve said. Bucky could hear him moving around, and imagined him gliding the mop over the floor like a giant, soggy paintbrush on a canvas that had been trodden on by a day’s worth of shoes. If anyone could make mopping the floor even slightly glamourous, Steve could.

“Bucky?”

Bucky turned at the sound of his name. Steve was standing at the counter, holding the mop and bucket. “What do I do with these?”

Bucky took them both from him, emptying the bucket into the kitchen sink, washing it out, and putting it with the mop in a closet. “Thanks for helping out,” he said as he returned. He grabbed Steve’s cup and wrote a quick message on it as he walked around the counter, stopping in front of Steve. “Here you go.” Steve took the coffee, without looking at the cup, and offered his coins. Bucky held up a hand. “On the house. Save that money for tomorrow.” There was a silent question in there. An invitation. A hope.

Steve frowned before nodding and giving Bucky a lopsided smile that made his heart race. “Yessir,” he replied.

“Have a good night,” Bucky said.

“Bucky?”

For the first time that night, Steve’s eyes met Bucky’s. Those beautiful blue eyes were shining with joy, relief, and something else that Bucky couldn’t place. “Yes?”

“I missed this. I missed you.”

Bucky managed to hold back a sob. “I missed you too.”

Steve stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Bucky, who sighed like he hadn’t been breathing properly for a week. Steve was his air, his lungs. Bucky was addicted to this man he had only known a few weeks, who had managed to break down his walls and make him open up and become vulnerable. Bucky let himself hug Steve tight, burying his face in the crook of his neck to breathe him in, before pulling back. He thought Steve held on for one more second before he, too, moved away. He gave Bucky a tender smile before wishing him goodnight.

Bucky hoped that Steve appreciated the message he’d written on his coffee cup: “I’m glad you came back”.

\---

Steve did return the next day, much to Bucky’s relief. Sam and Nat were both surprised that Bucky and Steve were chatting and smiling at each other like nothing had happened. In fact, they were chatting and smiling at each other _more_ than they did before everything had happened.

Only Stark didn’t seem fazed by this sudden development. Bucky saw him watching them underneath his sunglasses and smiling knowingly into his coffee.

When Steve left, Bucky waved goodbye before turning to where Stark was perched at the counter. “What’s your deal?” he asked.

Stark looked up at him blankly. “My what?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Don’t bullshit me, Stark. Why aren’t you surprised that all our so-called ‘teen drama’ has been resolved?”

Stark shrugged. “I trusted that you two would find your way out of this little scrape.”

Bucky placed both hands on the counter and leaned into Stark’s personal space, trying to look as threatening as possible. “What. Did. You. Do?” he hissed.

“Stop harassing Stark,” Nat called from the cash register, her voice sounding disinterested. “He’s not going to give you any money.”

“She’s right, you know, I’m a real Scrooge,” Stark deadpanned. “But, in answer to your question, I may have found your beau in the queue at Starbucks yesterday morning and had a quick chat.”

Bucky frowned, first in confusion, then in anger. “What did you say to him?”

Stark raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, no need to get pissy. If anything, you should be thanking me. I was the one who planted the idea in his head to go and sort things out between the two of you.”

“What? How?”

“It was more simple than I thought it would be, to be honest. The guy actually really wanted to talk about you. God, he looked so sad during that conversation. It was almost pathetic. Pretty much the exact mirror image of you this past week.”

“Hey!”

“All I had to do was make a brief comment about how you were just as distraught as he was and that you were going to be closing up alone last night, and the job was done.”

Bucky frowned at Stark for a couple of seconds before laughing. For the whole ‘snarky, emotionless genius billionaire playboy’ thing he had going, Tony Stark really did care. Far too much at times. “Thank you, Stark,” Bucky said, hoping the other man would pick up on his sincerity.

Stark appeared to do just that, and reacted with something akin to shock. “Did my ears betray me, or did you just thank me?” he said, letting out a smug smile.

And the moment was ruined. “Don’t get used to it,” Bucky muttered as he turned towards the kitchen.

“Finally,” Sam said, looking up from the fresh batch of cookies he had just taken out of the oven. “I was wondering when you’d quit making lovey eyes with your boyfriend and come help me.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Bucky muttered as Sam handed him a food order.

Sam snorted. “Of course. You keep chickening out of telling him how you feel.”

“He’s probably not even into guys,” Bucky replied. “And then what? Our friendship would be ruined because I’m too forward.”

“Sure, he’s not into guys,” Sam said, laughing. “Trust me, he looks at you the same way Stark looks at his coffee.”

“I swear to God, if you say anything about being thirsty, I’m halving your paycheque.”

Sam shrugged, knowing Bucky was joking. “I’m just saying, Stark sure swallows a lot of coffee.”

“Shut the hell up!” Bucky whined, blushing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think maybe one more chapter after this??? then an epilogue maybe?? idk when they'll be posted who knows i might go awol for another year (hopefully not)
> 
> pls kudos/comment


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picnics in the park are fun, but don't have an impromptu make-out session behind the counter of a coffee shop unless you want to be interrupted by a tired and grouchy genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm alive my exams are over my crops are flourishing etc etc
> 
> so how's about a nice long chapter in honour of tony stark's bday today??

Bucky was convinced that the others were wrong about Steve.

That is, until he started to doubt.

Steve still came to the shop every day, but instead of leaving straight after getting his coffee, he would stick around and chat with whoever was there at the time. Usually it was Nat at the counter, and Bucky would hear them talking about Steve’s most recent classes or sharing cupcake recipes. Whenever Stark was in the shop Steve would ask him about his latest project, and Stark sure loved to talk about himself and his work. Bucky was surprised that Steve could keep up with all the technical jargon Stark used. If Sam was there, the conversation varied widely from sci-fi films to workout regimes; it seemed that those two could find anything to talk about. But when Bucky brought Steve’s coffee over and joined in the conversation, he couldn’t help but notice Steve’s eyes light up a little.

Bucky still left notes on Steve’s coffee cups, and Steve still waited until he left the shop to read them. One night, Bucky’s phone buzzed with a text.

_Hi Bucky! Weird question, but I’m curious: why do you keep leaving nice messages on my coffee cups every day when we can just talk or text? – Steve_

Bucky had never really thought about that before. Was he being too clingy?

**_idk really_ **

**_i guess once i started doing it it became routine_ **

**_do you want me to stop doing it??_ **

Steve replied almost immediately.

_NO_

_Please don’t stop!_

_I like it!_

Bucky felt his face heat up.

_I mean, it’s nice to know that you care enough to give me encouraging messages on my coffee cup every day._

**_thank you it’s nice to be appreciated_ **

_:^)_

**_steve it’s 1am why are you thinking about this instead of sleeping_ **

_Why are you answering my texts instead of sleeping?_

Bucky groaned in fond exasperation.

**_you’re hopeless_ **

**_also i have a day off tomorrow_ **

**_well, today_ **

**_so i can sleep in as long as i want_ **

_So I’m not going to see you tomorrow? :^(_

**_i think you can manage one day without me_ **

_I can’t, Bucky. I need your coffee to survive._

**_oh so you’re only friends with me for my coffee??? :^/_ **

_NO I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT I’M SORRY!!_

_Your coffee is simply a bonus of being friends with you!_

_Think of it as the cherry on top of a delicious cake._

**_you think i’m delicious ;^))))))_ **

_*Sigh*_

_You’re the one who’s hopeless._

_Hey, I finish work at noon. How about we have a picnic in the park?_

_I can make the food for once._

Bucky was definitely full-on blushing now. He was glad he was alone and it was dark. Was Steve asking him out on a date-date? Or was it just as friends? Probably just friends. Friends went on picnics together, right? Right.

**_sure sounds great_ **

**_but i need to bring something_ **

**_i designate myself drinks-duty_ **

_Okay, okay. Is 2pm good for you? Or do you need a longer lie-in?_

**_2pm sounds great!_ **

_Cool! See you then!_

**_byeeeeee go to sleep_ **

_Only if you do too ;^)_

**_*sigh* goodnight steve_ **

_Goodnight, Bucky._

He went to sleep smiling.

\---

Bucky came to gradually. As soon as he felt conscious enough to open his eyes, he rolled over to check the time. Then he promptly swore and rolled out of bed, landing on his ass on the floor tangled up in the bedsheets. It was 1:30 in the afternoon, which only left him half an hour to get ready and meet Steve in the park!

“Okay, Barnes, you can do this,” he muttered to himself as he raced to the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. Most of his clothes were on the floor, so he had to rummage around for a good five minutes to find a t-shirt that wasn’t completely creased. His hair was unsalvageable, so he tied it up into a messy bun and pulled on some sneakers before grabbing his keys, phone and wallet and racing out the door.

He was halfway to the park and speedwalking until he realised that he had promised to bring drinks. “Shit!” he said under his breath and veered into the nearest supermarket, grabbing a large bottle of lemonade and some plastic cups and cursing the fact that only two tills were open.

He raced into the park at 1:58pm and caught sight of Steve waiting next to the bandstand. Trying to calm his breathing and hoping he wasn’t red-faced and sweating from the run over, he strolled coolly over to him. “Hey,” he called.

“Bucky!” Steve exclaimed, beaming. “Nice to see you!” He wrapped his arms around Bucky, who _really_ hoped he wasn’t sweating from the run over.

“You only saw me yesterday,” Bucky said into Steve’s shoulder. “Or have you missed your coffee that much?”

“I’m dying without it, Bucky,” Steve joked. “I didn’t realise my caffeine addiction was so out of hand.”

Bucky tutted. “Where shall we sit? I’m starving.”

Steve picked up a picnic basket, grabbed his left hand – sending what felt like a bolt of electricity up Bucky’s prosthetic arm – and dragged him into the park. “I know a place. C’mon.”

Steve kept hold of Bucky’s hand until they reached the top of a small hill and a clearing surrounded by trees on one side with a view over the lake on the other side. “Wow,” Bucky breathed. “I had no idea this was up here.”

“Few people do,” Steve said, laying down a blanket and setting out food. “I come up here to draw sometimes. There’s a lot of inspiration here.”

“I’m sure,” Bucky murmured, staring out at the lake and the cityscape behind it.

The food was good. Really good. As soon as Bucky tasted a spoonful of homemade potato salad he let out an obscene moan that made Steve laugh. “I’m not that good at cooking!” he exclaimed.

“Are you kidding? This is fucking delicious!” Bucky said through a mouthful of potato salad. Wait, was Steve _blushing_? “You have to give me the recipe for this potato salad. I want to take it to Vegas and marry it.”

Okay, Steve was _definitely_ blushing now. “I’m pretty sure my potato salad would want a wedding that’s a little more planned than one in Vegas. One in a proper church, with loads of flowers and friends and family.”

“Does your potato salad have friends and family?” Bucky asked. “Or are you just projecting now?”

Steve laughed. “Maybe I am. But by marrying my potato salad, you’re basically marrying me.”

Well, Bucky definitely didn’t want to go down that train of thought. There was no way he was going to imagine Steve in a suit, waiting for him as Bucky walked down the aisle, gazing at Bucky with those deep blue eyes wide in awe…

_No. Bad Bucky. Stop thinking thoughts._

“You can be the best man,” he suggested, trying desperately to keep a straight face. Literally straight. No gay fantasies here.

Steve held a hand up to his chest. “I’m honoured,” he said, “but I must warn you that I’m not the best at making speeches.”

“Well, Sam has way too much dirt on me to give a speech that won’t completely embarrass me, Nat’s already going to be the maid of honour and give me away in the service, and although I like Stark, we’re not close enough for him to be my best man, so you’re my best option, I’m afraid.”

Steve sighed. “Well, since I haven’t known you for all that long, I’ll probably have to ask Sam and Nat for inspiration-”

“Nope, I change my mind, Stark can be my best man.”

“Aw, not fair!” Steve exclaimed, grinning as he punched Bucky’s arm gently.

They kept chatting well after the food was all gone, and before Bucky knew it, the sun was setting. As the sun sank towards the darkening cityscape, the sky was bathed in warm tones of pink and orange that spread across the clouds like they had just been tie-dyed. He and Steve had shuffled closer over time, and now Bucky could feel Steve’s body heat radiating off him. Bucky could probably rest his head on Steve’s shoulder if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t, because that would definitely be overstepping boundaries, wouldn’t it?

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Steve said. Bucky hummed in agreement. “I’ve always wanted to come up here and paint a sunset like this, but I lack both the speed and the ability.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Bucky said. “And even if it is, you can practise until it’s not.”

Bucky turned his head to look at Steve, and was surprised to find Steve staring back at him, an unreadable expression on his face. Bucky gave him a small, lopsided smile, but Steve didn’t return it. Instead, he swallowed, and his gaze dropped to Bucky’s lips for a fraction of a second. But then, Steve cleared his throat and leaned back, leaving Bucky cold and wondering if he had just imagined the last fifteen seconds.

“It’s gonna get cold pretty soon, and I’ve got a class at eight in the morning tomorrow,” Steve said, standing up and offering Bucky a hand.

“Right.” Bucky cleared his throat. “Right. And I have work too. At the café. Making coffee, et cetera.”

He helped Steve pack up and they walked to the entrance of the park together. Bucky’s chest felt heavy as he tried to figure out what had just happened. Were they about to kiss? Did Steve want to kiss him? Was Steve interested in him? Was Bucky just being an idiot and imagining things?

“See you tomorrow?” Steve asked at the gate.

Bucky’s hopes lifted a little. So he didn’t screw things up between them! “Definitely,” he said, then immediately wondered if that sounded a little too eager.

But Steve beamed. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

“Goodnight, Steve.” Bucky watched Steve turn and walk away before heading in the opposite direction.

\---

Bucky opened the shop at 7am the next morning, tired but trying not to show it. It would just be him in the café until Nat showed up at ten, so he needed to be on his best game to handle the morning rush. Thankfully, Thursdays were never as busy as other days because, if one were to pick a day not to have coffee in the morning, it would probably be Thursday. Bucky suspected that most people’s weeks went a little bit like his:

  * **Monday** : The start of the week. No-one likes the start of the week. People buy coffee because their brains refuse to work without it.
  * **Tuesday** : Basically a second Monday. See above.
  * **Wednesday** : Hump day. People buy coffee to celebrate getting halfway through the working week.
  * **Thursday** : Just… a day. Nowhere near the start of the week, but too far away from the weekend to start celebrating. People only buy coffee if they’re desperately tired.
  * **Friday** : The end of the working week. People buy coffee either because they’re knackered after burning themselves out for five days straight or to celebrate surviving yet another week.
  * **Saturday** : The weekend. People buy coffee in celebration of a day off or in self-pity because they don’t have a day off when other people do.
  * **Sunday** : The day before Monday. People buy coffee in preparation for the start of another week.



Bucky wondered if he was starting to relate to middle-aged businessmen too much, and whether that was a sign of an early midlife crisis.

The first customer walked through the door at 7:15, and Bucky almost jumped out of his skin at the sight of Steve. “Morning, Buck,” Steve greeted.

Bucky switched on the coffee machine and rung up Steve’s usual order. “You’re here early,” he said.

Steve shrugged. “Well, I have a class at eight, and I need some caffeine in me before then. Especially since I didn’t get my fix yesterday.” He hesitated, eyes dropping to the floor in what Bucky recognised as nervousness. “And, also, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

Bucky’s heart rate immediately jumped to something that probably wasn’t healthy. “Yeah, ask away,” he tried to say casually.

“Well, I was going to wait until, well, later, because you might think I’m clingy, turning up here like twelve hours after we last saw each other. But the truth is… I had to see you. I-” Steve hesitated again, like he was choosing his words with the utmost care. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night. And, well, I need to know if – and it’s completely okay if you don’t – if you feel the same way.”

Bucky couldn’t reply. He could barely process what was going on. Was Steve Rogers, the guy he’d met and fallen in love with less than three months ago, who he’d thought was totally straight and totally out of his league, confessing that he had feelings for him?

“Y’know when I kept talking about how I didn’t think Sharon was the right person for me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on why? I think I’ve figured it out.”

“Yeah?” Bucky managed to choke out. Steve had walked around the counter and was standing directly in front of, so close that Bucky could smell his cologne. It smelled like flowers and sea salt. Bucky wanted to drown himself in it.

“Yeah,” Steve echoed. His eyes were mapping Bucky’s face, as if he were trying to memorise every little part of it. “It was because I’d found the right person for me already. He was right there, under my nose, the whole time.”

Bucky was definitely going to go into cardiac arrest now, his heart was beating so fast. That, or he was burning so many calories he wouldn’t have to go to the gym for another week.

“I wanted to do something last night, at the park. But I chickened out,” Steve said, his voice barely a whisper. His hand was cupping Bucky’s cheek as gently as if he were holding expensive china. “I still want to do it now, if you’d let me.”

“Please,” Bucky breathed, and then Steve kissed him.

Bucky’s brain short-circuited almost immediately, so he couldn’t register much other than that Steve tasted like he’d recently brushed his teeth – _did I brush my teeth this morning? I think so. I hope so. It’d really suck if Steve was getting a mouthful of night breath right now_ – and that Bucky was, fortunately, kissing back. It was a slightly sloppy first kiss, with a little too much teeth and their noses bumping together, probably on account of Bucky not really being in control of his own actions, but when Bucky pulled back for air Steve was smiling at him.

“I take it you do feel the same way, then,” Steve said.

“Well, _duh_ ,” Bucky replied, making Steve chuckle. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to do that.”

“Again?” Steve asked. They could talk later. Now, though, all Bucky wanted was Steve’s lips on his. So he grabbed Steve’s face and kissed him.

A sound of something dropping on the counter made them break apart and turn towards the disturbance. Tony Stark was sitting at the counter, staring at them with an extremely bored expression. As Bucky and Steve both stared back at him in shocked and embarrassed silence, Tony took the opportunity to address them. “Um, as much as I love that you’ve resolved all that sexual tension between the two of you – and, seriously, you make a great couple, I’m very happy for you – could you maybe leave the smooching until after I’ve had a double espresso? Please?”

Bucky flipped him off, but went to the coffee machine. “What brings you down here so early?” Bucky heard Steve ask.

“I’m hiding from Pepper,” Tony replied. “The one downside to dating the CEO of your corporation is that she can _literally_ drag you out of bed for a meeting.”

Bucky smirked. “So you finally got it on with her, huh?”

“I mean, it was last week when we talked out our feelings and ‘got it on’ as you so eloquently put it, so it’s kinda old news, but of course you two have only had eyes for each other recently so it’s not like I can blame you for not hearing about that until now.” Tony smirked as Bucky flipped him the bird again, but took the double espresso gratefully and sipped it with a blissful sigh. “Ah, sweet caffeine. How I’ve missed you.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Could you get any more overdramatic?”

“That coming from you,” Tony deadpanned, “Mr. ‘My-Crush-Is-So-Hot-And-So-Out-Of-My-League-What-Else-Can-I-Do-But-Pine-For-All-Eternity’.

“And you _weren’t_ flirting with me a few weeks ago?” Steve cut in. Bucky gestured towards Steve with a ‘see?’ motion.

“Hey, I flirt with everyone. It’s like a defence mechanism. Besides, at least I’m direct when talking to attractive people, _unlike some_.” Bucky rolled his eyes again and opened his mouth to reply when Tony’s phone rang. “Damn, she’s noticed I’ve run away,” Tony muttered before answering the call. “Hey, Pepper… No, I’m not at the café– …okay, you got me there. Damn state-of-the-art phone tracking technology… Bailing? Of course not, honey, you know me better than that… Well, I’m sure you can handle it by yourself… Oh, no, no, there’s no need for that– okay, okay, fine. I’m on my way.” He hung up and grabbed his jacket and coffee, leaving the exact change on the counter. “Gotta bounce. Duty calls.”

“You’re pretty whipped for her, aren’t you?” Steve said.

“So, Tony Stark does have a heart,” Bucky added in feigned surprise.

“Shut up, you two can talk,” Tony retorted, although he was definitely blushing. “See you round, lovebirds.”

As soon as the door closed, Steve looked back at Bucky with a small smirk on his face. “I’d say I have about five minutes before I need to go to work,” he said, leaning forwards and wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist. “Shall we continue from where we were when we were so rudely interrupted?”

Bucky grinned. “That sounds like a great idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yayyyyy
> 
> so just the epilogue left now, idk when that'll be done lmao


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We revisit the gang two months after the events of the last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello
> 
> ok so it's asguardian-agent-super-soldier's bday again today and i can't believe this fic has been over a year in the making lmaoooooo 
> 
> also on a completely unrelated note i totally planned that the last chapter would be put up exactly a year after the first yeah that was my plan from the start

_Two months later_

Bucky opened the shop with Sam as per usual on Mondays, already practically buzzing with excitement despite the fact that it was the start of the week and fairly close to the height of summer. While Sam worked on preparing food orders, Bucky handled the significantly grumpier customers at the counter, slightly skittish with anticipation. Half an hour in, Sam was already giving him side-eye. “Damn, Barnes. Have you had too much coffee this morning or something?”

Bucky realised that he’d been bouncing from one foot to the other for the last five minutes and stood still, his legs suddenly starting to hurt. He wondered if one’s legs could get jacked just from bouncing up and down out of nerves. Although Bucky was more excited than nervous.

Nat came in at eleven to prepare for the lunch rush. Bucky greeted her cheerily, and she frowned at him. “It’s too hot today to be so chipper.”

Bucky shrugged. “We have air conditioning?”

“Lover Boy’s coming round later. It’s his last day before his college breaks up for the summer,” Tony explained from his spot at the counter, sipping his third espresso.

Bucky shot him a glare but Nat laughed. “You only saw him yesterday, you can’t miss him that much.”

“I don’t miss him, I’m just happy for him because he gets several weeks of freedom,” Bucky protested, scowling.

“And therefore, he can spend more time with you,” Tony said.

Bucky rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hold back a dopey grin. He didn’t think it was possible to love Steve any more than he already did, but every day he proved himself wrong. He had said this to Natasha one time and she had replied with a Shakespeare quote: “ _My bounty is as boundless as the sea_ _, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite_.” Bucky then said that he didn’t know that Nat liked Shakespeare. Nat looked Bucky dead in the eye and replied that there was a lot of stuff he didn’t know about her.

Steve came in just as the lunch rush was starting to ease up. He waved at Bucky from the back of the queue, and Bucky beamed at him and waved back, almost dropping the cupcake he was taking from the display with his left hand.

Bucky made Steve’s large latte and Steve sat next to Tony while the three of them chatted, Nat cutting in from time to time as she cleared tables.

“So, what are your plans for summer?” Tony asked Steve. “If you’re bored, I’m sure Bucky would love to have you working here.” Bucky and Nat both gave him a death stare.

Steve laughed. “As much fun as that’d be, I’m actually volunteering at an art course for disadvantaged kids over the summer.” He explained how he’d been part of the course and that that was how he’d developed the skills and the passion to pursue art as a career, and now he’d been volunteering there ever since he’d left high school. Giving back to the community and hoping to inspire future generations of artists. Bucky’s chest warmed with pride for his boyfriend.

Steve and Tony stuck around for the rest of the day, and when Sam’s shift ended he sat at the counter with them while they shared the leftover pastries. Eventually, Bucky shooed Nat and Sam away – Bucky: “Go rest up, both of you – I’m not in tomorrow and I don’t know how you’ll handle things without me.” Nat: “Like we always do, Barnes: perfectly well.” – and Tony left for a date with Pepper, which left Steve to help Bucky close up, a habit of his now but not an unwelcome one. Bucky wiped down the counter with methodical, rhythmic movements while Steve cleaned the tables and stacked the chairs, chatting about anything and nothing at all as they usually did. With Steve, the task of cleaning and closing up took less than twenty minutes, and it was still light and warm when they got outside.

“What do you want to do now?” Steve asked as they strolled leisurely down the street. People were still rushing home from work – one could never escape the rush of businesspeople in New York – yet the cool, but not cold, breeze and the sun descending in its lazy arc towards the horizon seemed to make them slow down just enough to admire the evening, to breathe in a little of the soft pastel colours and the warmth of early summer.

They were walking on autopilot, engrossed in each other’s company, but they seemed to be headed for Bucky’s apartment. “Netflix?” Bucky suggested.

Steve hummed in approval. “You wanna pick up some takeout on the way? We can go back to that Thai place where you had that curry you liked.”

“Sounds good.”

There was silence as they walked, hand in hand, but it was a comfortable one: they were engaged in their own thoughts, and thoughts of each other. Bucky was thinking ahead to Steve’s birthday – July 4th, how patriotic (even though Steve thought that the national holiday was overrated) – and what Steve might want. He’d been talking about getting a new set of oil paints for a while, but that was before his interest shifted more towards pencil drawings. And Bucky couldn’t just present him with a brand new HB pencil for his birthday, could he?

“Um, so I have news.”

Bucky turned to Steve, thoughts of birthday presents put on hold for the moment. “Yeah?”

“You know the commission at that gallery on Putnam Avenue that I submitted a portfolio for a while back? The one that I said there was no way I was going to get?” There was a smile on his face that made Bucky’s eyes widen.

“You didn’t.”

“I did. I got it.”

“Oh my god, Steve! That’s fantastic!” Bucky pulled Steve in for a quick kiss, except they were both grinning, so it wasn’t really a proper kiss.

“Yeah. So, when I’m not volunteering at the art classes, I can actually work on proper art, and get money out of it. And the theme of the commission is centred around pencil and graphite drawings, so it’s really up my alley at the moment.” Steve laughed. “You must think I’m crazy, getting so excited about this.”

“No! No, I’m so happy for you! You’re getting to make art on your own terms! It’s great!” Bucky was still holding onto Steve’s arms, and Steve’s hands were on Bucky’s shoulders. They stood there, smiling at each other, for a moment. “We need to celebrate,” Bucky said eventually, pulling Steve onwards.

“We can celebrate by eating cheap Thai takeout together while bingeing Netflix shows,” Steve replied.

“Okay. But there has to be ice cream.”

“You know you’re sounding like you’re twelve years old, right?”

“You know I don’t care, right?” Bucky retorted as he pressed a quick kiss to Steve’s mouth before dragging him into the Thai takeout place.

Later, they were pressed together on the couch, empty takeout cartons and ice cream tubs strewn on the coffee table. _Friends_ was the background noise to Bucky’s thoughts as he tried to memorise as much as he could about this moment. He could feel Steve’s body heat through their t-shirts and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He glanced up to see Steve smiling at the television. A couple of Steve’s drawings had been put up on the walls. He was still getting used to the warm, full feeling of satisfaction and contentment that he sometimes felt when he was alone with Steve, but he liked how he was feeling right now. Safe. Happy. Hopeful. Like Steve’s presence in his life, and the trust that he has given Steve, has gradually made him able to breathe properly for the first time in a very long while.

It may have been too soon to say, but Bucky wanted Steve to make him feel like this for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, comments and kudos are appreciated or you can just yell at me on tumblr at sunshine-soprano
> 
> ily'all lots <3

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on tumblr: sunshine-soprano


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